


And We're Live

by Tiikeria



Series: Care for Me? [5]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Epilepsy, Gen, M/M, Seizures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 20:46:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1318651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiikeria/pseuds/Tiikeria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Podcast was always a chaotic and energetic thing to take part in; they just weren’t expecting this level of chaos. [Part 5 of Care for Me?]</p>
            </blockquote>





	And We're Live

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly think this is the most I have ever written for one storyline. CfM is my most successful story ever; I've never had so many people interested in a fic. To all of you who comment, kudos, like, reblog, share or whatever else...I love you. Thanks for helping me get my writing drive back. <3 Anyway, enough of the sentimental stuff; let's get on with the story. I greatly apologize if Gus and Burnie are a bit out of character; I'm not used to writing them. Enjoy part 5, my lovelies~

The Podcast was always a chaotic and energetic thing to take part in, Jack found as he sat on the couch next to a passionately speaking Gavin, who was trying desperately to convince Burnie and Gus that his latest crazy question was one that made sense. Of course, the men couldn't help but dismiss the possibility that someone could just forget how to breathe one day; Jack preferred to just stay quiet on the matter, leaving the arguing between the others on the set, laughing when Gavin's arguments for it continued to get more outlandish with every passing moment.  
  
In other words, it was a completely normal Podcast.   
  
"Gavin, there is no fucking way someone can just _forget_  how to breathe. It's not possible," Burnie argued, laptop precariously perched in his lap as he tried to express his exasperation at the Brit's level of idiocy.  
  
"Look it up!" Gavin shot back, sitting at the edge of his seat, eyes drilling holes into Burnie, gesturing to the laptop.  
  
"You might as well Google it," Jack laughed, "Or we're never going to hear the end of this. It's like the Gavin-Ryan Coin Argument. They had the fucking fans arguing about it."  
  
"Don't fucking remind me. It was in every comment I saw for weeks," Burnie groaned, as he typed rapidly on the portable machine, "If anyone saw my search history, they would be so fucking confused."  
  
"So it either is a bunch of porn mixed with normal questions, or it's a bunch of fucking weird questions mixed with even more porn," Gus deadpanned, earning himself an annoyed huff from the man across from him.  
  
"There's no fucking porn. But there are a shit load of Gavin's fucked up questions. Seriously, people would think I was fucking stupid."  
  
"Gavin's not stupid...he just thinks a bit...uniquely," Jack supplied with another laugh, getting a beer salute from the Lad.  
  
"Thanks, Jack."  
  
"Alright, fucker, according to this, you can't fucking forget how to breathe, unless you have some sort of disorder. So, no, you can't just up and one day forget how to breathe," Burnie's tone was final, but Gavin refused to relinquish his point, "What if you just up and got one of these disorders? Technically, you can just up and forget how to breathe if that happens, right?"  
  
"I fucking hate you."  
  
"Nah," Gavin laughed, his fingers playing with the beer bottle in his hand, "You love having me here; that's why you're always so bloody sad when I go on trips."  
  
"You actually did it to yourself, Burnie. If you hadn't been so intent on getting him here..." Jack smirked, unphased by the unimpressed look from his boss. "I'm done talking about this; did anyone see that video..."  
  
The chatting continued on from there, the topic moving to some viral videos that were all over the internet, voices chiming in every direction. All but one. And it took Jack a bit before he noticed the lack of a British accent in the conversation. He glanced over quietly, frowning when he saw Gavin quietly staring at his bottle, fingers still on the brown glass; at first, the bearded man simply thought Gavin had gotten his finger stuck again and was trying to figure out how to get it out without anyone noticing. But the longer Jack watched, the more he realized that wasn't the case; once the realization hit him, his breath caught in his throat, silently begging the Brit to come back quickly, knowing that this would not be the way he would want the fans to find out about his condition. Jack's gaze darted from Gavin to the monitor, ignoring Gus and Burnie's heated debate, watching as the screen changed from a wide shot of the set to a close up of Gus, taking that opportunity to motion to the camera to cut recording, a frantic gesture that they seemed to understand in the control room, since the live feed went dark instantly, catching the attention of the two oblivious men.  
  
"The fuck? Did we just lose signal?" Gus stood, as if ready to check in on the control room, but found himself stopping when Jack knelt in front of Gavin, pushing the table and mic away and taking the bottle from his still hands. Blaine poked his head in, asking the question on everyone's mind, "Is he alright?"  
  
"He's having a seizure," Jack sighed, sitting back on his haunches, trying to decide his next move, wondering if he should help the Lad lay back, or if he should leave him for the moment. Burnie was by his side the moment the words left his mouth, the man's protective nature over his employees flaring in response to the situation, "Can someone get him a bottle of water?"  
  
"Yeah, give me a sec," Blaine disappeared for only a moment before tossing the cool bottle to Gus, the elder man keeping his distance, though no less worried; this was the first he had ever heard of Gavin even having epilepsy, though Burnie didn't seemed surprised in the slightest.   
  
"Gav? I have no clue if you can hear me or not, but maybe talking to you will help. If you can, try to focus on my voice, alright? We're waiting for you to come back; everyone's worried. Burnie may kill you if you don't come back soon, assuming he doesn't have a heart attack first," Jack kept his voice calm and low, his eyes searching Gavin's, panic trying to take hold of his emotions as he tried to stay cool and collected for everyone's sake. Being the only one there to really know what to do was terrifying to say the least; he couldn't understand how Ryan had managed it the night he found out.   
  
"I always said you would be the cause of my death, Gavin," Burnie muttered, taking Jack's lead, "But I wasn't expecting it to be like this."  
  
"See? You're supposed to give him a heart attack when you inevitably do something near fatally stupid, possibly because Geoff or Michael dared you to. Not because of a seizure. Come back, so we can spare Burnie's poor heart."  
  
"You're making it sound like a cheesy romantic movie, Jack, thanks for that."  
  
Jack let out a bit of a hysterical laugh, panic rising in his throat; it was getting harder to keep calm the longer it stretched on, knowing that past a certain point, there could be consequences. Luckily for them, it seemed as though Gavin couldn't resist the temptation to tease Burnie, even if he was now exhausted and just coming back from a total mental shutdown. It was like that one statement brought him back, his gaze slowly slipping back to attention, the glassiness leaving the green eyes Jack was so desperately searching.  
  
"Our love is like a cheesy romantic movie," he muttered, lifting his head giving the two men a slow blink and a tired smile, sighs of relief echoing in the room; Gus finally approached, handing the younger man the bottle of water from earlier, Gavin eagerly taking a large gulp from the bottle, "Appreciate it, Gus."  
  
"You alright? Any headaches? Does it feel like it's going to come back? Do you need to head home? We can find someone to fill in for the rest of the Podcast if you need to go; I can get someone to go get Geoff," Burnie rambled on, reaching up and pressing his hand to the man's forehead, Jack sharing an amused smile with the British man, Gavin letting out an exasperated groan.  
  
"Burnie, I'm fine, I can finish the Podcast, I'm just bloody tired. No, you don't have to get Geoff, cause you're just as bad as he is. I don't bloody need both of you mothering me."  
  
"To be fair, I think Burnie is worse," Jack mused, trying to ease the panicked tension in the room, much to the silent thanks of Gavin, "Geoff just made you lay down. Burnie's ready to call 911."  
  
"Damn right I am; that shit is scary. One second you're fine, the next you're like a fucking statue."  
  
Gavin shrugged, straightening up on the couch, getting comfortable again, "It happens. We should probably get on with the Podcast; don't want the fans to worry."  
  
"You sure you're alright?" Gus questioned, settling back in his chair, Burnie and Jack following his lead.  
  
"Toppy-tippers."  
  
"We need to talk about your fucking vocabulary. Anyway, we're good to resume, guys, whenever you are."  
  
It only took moments for the stream to resume, Burnie apologizing for the interruption and simply blamed it on technical difficulties, leaving out that the difficulties weren't with the equipment, but with Gavin's brain. Quietly, the Brit muttered to the bearded man beside him, "Thanks, Jack."  
  
Jack raised his eyebrow, a bemused smile across his face, "What for?"  
  
"Talking me back. Helping me out. I appreciate it."  
  
The smile turned warm as Jack reached out an patted his shoulder, "Don't mention it, Gav." 


End file.
